


Long Hair and Soft Wings

by VoyeuristicFacelessBeast



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley Has Long Hair (Good Omens), M/M, Phone Sex, Switch Aziraphale (Good Omens), Switch Crowley (Good Omens), Wing Kink, Wings, blowjob, demi aziraphale, switchy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 05:05:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoyeuristicFacelessBeast/pseuds/VoyeuristicFacelessBeast
Summary: The one in which Crowley is mischievous and Aziraphale is obliging, everyone gets off and everyone has a good time.





	Long Hair and Soft Wings

Crowley couldn’t remember what day it was, and he hardly cared. Time hadn’t really meant much for six thousand years, then it was ridiculously suffocating for about eleven, and now it meant little again. Even less now that him and Aziraphale were technically jobless. It was surprisingly hard to think of things to do when he wasn’t having to find ways to make himself look good to head office. He wasn’t even sure how much time had passed at this point - he’d have to ask Aziraphale, he always seemed to know for whatever reason. Crowley had started collecting more plants, things that were much needier than his previous collection. In fact, he noted, Aziraphale would probably have something to say about how the plants had taken over the flat. Maybe it was time to find homes for some of these. Or just a new flat. He sat at his desk, leaning his chair back onto two legs in a way it was definitely not intended. He was bored.

Aziraphale still had his shop, of course. The glorified library. He was probably elbow-deep in a reread of some of his old favorites, now that there wasn’t anyone to report back to. For several months (years? Crowley was rubbish with time) they had been nervous. What if they came for them again? What if suddenly one just was gone? What if they figured out the body-swap? Crowley had been admittedly a clingy mess for a while afterwards. He tried to play it cool, but the vision of the bookshop on fire and the absolute chill that had overtaken him when he believed Aziraphale to be gone, that took a while to leave him. It remained unspoken but the Angel had humored him.

Since then things had calmed down a bit. It wasn’t uncommon to go a while without talking to the other - they didn’t _have_ to be in each others business all the time. They were each used to having their breathing room, and were both figuring out where they belonged in this alone time. With that said, neither ever seemed to be more than fifteen minutes away from the other. They were figuring this out together. They were the only thing they had, after all.

Speaking of that, several thousand years worth of stolen kisses and hidden romance had finally blossomed into something tangible. There had always been an underlying fear that someone from head office would choose to pop in for a little visit. Everything was as forbidden as the fruit Crowley had tempted Eve to. Now it was out in the open and they didn’t feel nervous about it. Strangely enough, not much had really changed. The original stock (angels, of course) were created sexless, after all. Sex wasn’t exactly a thing either the Angel or Demon were naturally geared towards - there was a common belief among humans that Demons came up to Earth to tempt humans into sex with them, but it was actually pretty rare. Crowley wasn’t saying he _hadn’t_ done it, but it usually wasn’t the first go-to.

Living among humans as long as they had, in tangible, human bodies had of course taken it’s toll. You can’t have watched humans partake in the curious activity, and find yourself possessing the proper equipment without testing it out a few times. The pair had of course explored the opportunities, but it wasn’t exactly top priority. It was exciting enough to not have to worry about Beelzebub or Gabriel popping up out of nowhere. They had the rest of time to try out things, there was no reason to rush it all now. This was, of course, what they had agreed upon after about two weeks of non-stop sexual exploration. That was just a blink of an eye to them, but it was making up for lost time over the centuries of sexual tension and the very few moments they took to explore each other, back in the day.

Most of the time, though, they really did just enjoy each others company. Crowley was finally starting to learn to enjoy some of the foods Aziraphale so enjoyed. _Some_.

However wholesome most of their interactions were, today wasn’t really the day for that. Crowley felt like he wanted a bit more. He _could_ just masturbate on his own, but that wasn’t as fun as it used to be now that he had a willing partner. But it was in the middle of the day, and Aziraphale was probably playing at book-shop-owner as he did occasionally. Boring.

Unless…

A sly smile spread it’s way across the snake’s lips as a very not-kind idea blossomed in his mind’s eye. One thing the pair hadn’t tried yet was something called phone sex - not new by any means (sexting was out of the question until Crowley could convince Aziraphale to get a smart phone) but something that wasn’t very useful to them. To Crowley’s understanding, this was a method used more for humans separated by great distance, or because they were in hiding, or maybe done between strangers. This was something a bit more on-brand for pre-apoca-wasn’t Crowley and Aziraphale, except even phones had been a bit iffy since Hell had taken his advice to communicate through electronics. What would Lord Beelzebub have thought, popping in to check on Crowley just to hear in vivid detail how he would stroke that angelic cock of his, or worse, how he would leave tender kisses trailing up his soft belly. What a quick way to confuse Hell. Would that have been a positive or a negative? Tempting an Angel surely would get you high marks. Regardless, not a situation he would ever want to find himself in. The point was, the pair were never far from each other and Aziraphale thought phone sex to be pointless.

Crowley picked up his phone and dialed the bookshop number before his mind could wander any further. He felt like causing a little bit of good old fashioned mischief and annoyance with his old friend. Aziraphale picked up the phone with his usual book-shop line.

“It’s me, Angel.” Crowley purred, still leaned back in his chair.

“Ah, Crowley. How can I help you?” Aziraphale asked cheerfully. Crowley could hear shuffling in the background.

“You remember when you told me you liked my hair long, yeah?”

“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale confirmed, the smile in his voice. “Are you thinking of growing it out?” Hopeful. How cute.

“Eeeh, maybe.” Crowley shrugged, suddenly realizing he wasn’t really sure how to go about this. “I was just thinking about back in the Garden.”

There was a pause. The shuffling stopped.

“What about the Garden, Crowley?” He asked curiously.

“When we were alone. I missed an opportunity, I think.” Crowley licked his lips. “Really. I should have shoved you up against that tree when I had the chance.”

“Excuse me?” Azirphale sounded puzzled, and it took everything Crowley had to not chuckle.

“It’s just me, Aziraphale. Long curls, dark robe, wings out for the world, pinning you against that tree and grinding into you. What is it you want?” Crowley said, voice soft, eyes closed.

“Crowley… there are people in here.” Aziraphale said quietly.

“Just answer the question, Angel.”

Another pause.

“I want… you.” Aziraphale muttered. Crowley smiled. He could see the Angel’s eyes flicking to make sure no one’s paying attention. Eyes still closed, Crowley rubbed himself slowly through his trousers.

“My dick is so hard, Angel. It’s all new.” Crowley said softly into the phone. “My face is in your wings, they’re so soft. I’ve got my hand in your robes now, running up your thigh.”

“Fiend.” Aziraphale mumbled on the other end.

“Are you hard, Angel?” Crowley whispered, unbuttoning his trousers to give himself a proper stroke. He let a heavy breath out through his nose.

“...Yes.” The voice was so feeble on the other end. Crowley knew part of it was in an effort to keep the patrons of the store from noticing his conversation, but it suited the image in his mind’s eye of bright-eyed and fresh Aziraphale, newly crushed from failing his first assignment.

“Good. I’ve got my hand on your cock now, giving it a good stroke.” Crowley said, performing said action on himself. He heard a tiny whimper from the other end.

“Crowley, I could meet you shortly.” Aziraphale said, sounding desperate. The problem was it was such a sweet sound. Crowley had to take advantage of it.

“Not yet.” Crowley replied, wanting to torture his Angel a bit more. Besides, he’d already started working at his hard-on and was determined to finish. “What if I go faster?”

“I-I doubt I’d stand it long.” Aziraphale replied. Somewhere between the vision of them in the Garden of Eden, Crowley pictured Aziraphale white-knuckling his desk. It was thrilling.

“I’ll stop then.” Crowley smirked, but didn’t stop on himself, thrusting lazily into his hand. “Instead I’m pulling your robes up, rubbing my cock against you. Is that what you want, Angel?”

“Yes.” Aziraphale breathed.

“If I just slip it in…” Crowley bit his lip, grunting as he thrust harder into his hand. “And shove you against the Tree, grabbing your wings for balance.”

“Crowley please.” Aziraphale’s voice was a small whine.

“You want more? I’m already fucking you harder. You can’t get away.” Crowley breathed, his strokes quick now. He didn’t have much longer.

“I’m coming over.” Aziraphale said firmly.

“You’re coming?” Crowley asked teasingly, breathing harder. The proverbial string inside of him was wound ridiculously tight and would break any moment.

“You know what I meant.” The Angel hissed.

“I-I’m coming!” Crowley shuddered as he exploded into his own hand, his chair quickly thudding onto all four legs before he could tip it entirely backwards. He groaned loudly into the phone, feeling equal parts satisfied and… slightly embarrassed?

The pause on the other end lasted a little longer than he would have liked.

“As I said… I’m coming over.” Click.

Well. He might be in trouble. It was worth it, though.

* * *

Aziraphale practically miracled himself to Crowley’s flat. Okay, so it wasn’t quite that fast, but he didn’t want to appear too desperate. He was though. Entirely too desperate. In general, Aziraphale was not particularly sexual. At the beginning there had been a fascination with it - something entirely new to learn. Once the initial excitement had died down, he found that it could be an enjoyable activity, but it was not his favorite way to spend his time. He quite liked cuddling though, and him and Crowley did so often.

However. Something about the sudden phone call, and the images the Demon had so kindly implanted, twisted something inside of Aziraphale he couldn’t quite pin down. Arousal was easy enough to understand, and that wasn’t the issue. He just wasn’t entirely certain why this was bringing it about with such force. The image of Crowley taking advantage of him, gripping at his wings in the heat of passion… He shuddered at that. Something about that in particular had awakened something unexpected inside of him. They hadn’t gone past anything generally considered ‘vanilla’, could this be what humans referred to as a ‘kink’?

Once he was at Crowley’s flat he knocked politely at the door. Crowley answered, looking every bit as put together as he always did, sans his sunglasses. Those bright yellow eyes held pupils slightly dilated, and Crowley’s head tilted with his slight sway as he stepped aside. Aziraphale thought he saw a small smirk on his lips.

“To what do I owe the honor?” Crowley purred, the door closing with a click behind them. Aziraphale turned to look at him, frowning.

“I would very much like if you did not pull a stunt like that again, dear. That was very unprofessional.”

“Oh, Angel,” the Demon chuckled, his slithering gait stalking around his prey. Aziraphale’s gaze followed him, narrowed slightly. “We are long past professional.”

The hair on Aziraphale’s neck was on end, uncomfortable. He felt like he was being hunted, and knew exactly why. Human bodies came equipped with certain physical responses, and though he had the ability to just not use them, he had a tendency to hang onto responses like this. They came in handy sometimes. Currently his corporeal form was telling him a large predator was stalking him, and it was accurate. Suddenly Crowley’s head jerked forward, his eyes intense, mouth curled cruelly. Azirphale’s head jerked back slightly in response, inwardly cursing himself for not stopping it.

“Did you like what I said, Aziraphale?” Crowley hissed softly, their faces only inches apart. Aziraphale noted curiously that the whites were almost entirely gone from Crowley’s eyes, something that tended to happen when he was concentrating too hard. Before he could respond, he heard a finger snap come from beside him, and the scene almost entirely changed.

Suddenly the Crowley that stood in front of him wasn’t the painfully modern creature he associated with, but one entirely too familiar in his innocence of right and wrong. Crowley stood, breathtaking, long curled tresses framing his sharp features, flaming red as the Angel he had once been. He had unfurled his wings, something they hadn’t done since stopping time to speak with Adam. At least not in front of each other. They were shimmering black, iridescent, turning emerald in places the light caught it. Crowley kept his wings immaculate - Aziraphale imagined it had something to do with Demons losing the wing grooming rituals Angels had. He had to care for himself, and a healthy dose of his vanity surely didn’t hurt. His long dark robes obscured his body in a way that he rarely allowed in recent centuries. They now stood in a garden; not quite Eden, but beautiful in it’s own right. It took a moment for Aziraphale to realize that Crowley had also manifested a semblance of his old robes on him, pristine and white with small traces of gold curling at the hems. It felt somehow more obscene than nudity against his skin - these were the clothing that God had intended for them to walk the Earth in, and considering his current stance with Heaven it felt a little blasphemous.

“Where are your wings?” Crowely asked, tilting his head playfully. Aziraphale hesitated. Somehow this felt way more intimate than anything else they’d done. After a beat he let his wings unfurl somewhat shyly, letting out a long sigh through his nose. Keeping your wings tucked from Earthly view was slightly uncomfortable - the type of discomfort you got used to, like wearing a corset or petticoats. Once you removed the discomfort, you found relief you didn’t know you were seeking.

Crowley smiled, somewhat cruelly. That was the shape of his mouth, Aziraphale supposed. In general he was the one in control of their intimate interactions - he didn’t (usually) get turned on the same way Crowley did, so he was allowed to take the reins. Besides that, Crowley liked giving up a bit of his control in private. Well. Usually. Right now he was slithering around Aziraphale, somehow still managing to wiggle visibly despite the flowing robes. He came up beside Aziraphale and reached a hand out to gently stroke a wing. The Angel found himself holding his breath, tensing up under the touch. He hadn’t been in very good standing with the other angels in an extremely long time, and wasn’t particularly good at grooming his wings himself. The touch was nice, but he was also extremely aware that his wings were a mess compared to his typically put together look.

“These poor things.” Crowley murmured, his hand moving to Aziraphale’s shoulder, the other coming to rest on his lower back. “They’re so neglected. Doesn’t God care what you look like?”

“We aren’t… on speaking terms.” An understatement at best. Aziraphale was trying to ‘get into character’, if acting like a previous version of yourself could be called that. It still hit a bit too close to his current situation.

“Aah, well, is it because of the sword?” Crowley teased, leaning to smirk up at the Angel, hand still on his lower back.

“Actually it has more to do with you.” Aziraphale responded, frowning slightly. Crowley’s smirk turned into a cruel grin.

“Oh, Angel,” he leaned up, pressing close to Aziraphale’s jaw. He could feel his breath on his neck. He shuddered. “Don’t flatter me.”

Suddenly the hand on his back shoved him forward, causing him to stumble, his arms shooting out to catch himself and grabbing onto a nearby tree he hadn’t noticed. Had that even been there before? His mind was whirling and he wasn’t entirely sure. He heard Crowley chuckle from somewhere behind him. Crowley was clearly getting satisfaction out of being in a position of power that Aziraphale was not accustomed to. The Angel’s wings fluttered as he attempted to steady himself, but Crowley’s hand was between them, pushing Aziraphale into the tree.

“Really- Can’t I stand?” He asked helplessly, folding his arms against the tree in front of him. The bark was rough and flaking off against his skin.

“I like it better this way.” Crowley said. Aziraphale was about to say something when he felt the hem of his robes lifting, and a hand ran up the inside of his thigh. “Is this alright?”

Oh, Crowley. For all of his demon ways he never wanted to do anything that Aziraphale didn’t want. It made his heart swell a little more for him.

“It’s fine.” Aziraphale responded with a smile, his cheek leaned against his forearms. Crowley was hidden behind one of Aziraphale’s wings, but he could still feel his hands. They caressed his thighs, gently urging them apart before cupping the curvature of his bottom. Aziraphale let out a small breath and closed his eyes, enjoying the touch.

“I’ll take care of you, Angel.” He said softly from somewhere behind him. Gingerly, he pressed a finger inside of the Angel, Aziraphale scrunching his nose slightly. He didn’t particularly dislike it, but it was not his favorite activity to engage in. He was happy enough to indulge Crowley, of course, and the Demon was very good with his long fingers. He allowed himself to relax as Crowley worked at stretching him diligently, his free hand gripping Aziraphale’s hip tightly.

“Are you ready?” Crowley asked, leaning up against Aziraphale. He could feel the Demon’s cock twitch against him in anticipation, and it made him become hyper aware of his own erection, unattended. Aziraphale nodded, and as he felt Crowley lifting his own robes, the Demon’s wings came forward and rested against Aziraphale’s. He felt his breath catch in his chest unexpectedly. Why, of all things, was _that_ the thing that excited him?

He felt Crowley press inside of him with a soft groan, and Aziraphale whimpered softly in response. It may not have been his favorite activity, but this did feel nice. Better than it had when they previously tried it with Crowley on top - he suspected that had more to do with the somewhat primal nature of their wings pressed against each other. Crowley started to thrust inside of him, slowly at first but rapidly picking up the pace. He was breathing heavier already, his body trembling slightly from the built anticipation he’d brought upon himself. He gripped Aziraphale’s hips tightly, his fingers digging into his skin. It didn’t take long for Aziraphale to match his pace.

“You like that, Angel?” Crowley leaned into Aziraphale’s ear and hissed, one hand reaching up and gripping the base of one of his white wings. Aziraphale cried out, feeling a strong surge of desire run straight to his cock. Crowley suddenly thrust harder in response. “You like being fucked by a demon?”

Aziraphale could only whimper as he shifted a hand to touch himself, only getting in one stroke before Crowley shoved him forward roughly, pushing on his sensitive wing.

“Not unless I say!” Crowley hissed, thrusting himself even deeper, rougher into his Angel. Azirphale was a little shocked; Crowley was not usually dominating in a bedroom setting. Although it was unusual, he was strangely into it. He moaned loudly, fingernails gripping into the tree bark in front of him. Crowley still had one hand on his hip, using it to bring Aziraphale closer to thrust deeper into him. The other hand gripped his wing tightly for balance, and kept Aziraphale like putty in the Demon’s hands.

“Please?” He begged, moaning as Crowley’s cock probed deeply inside of him, enjoying it more than he’d done in the past. His own erection demanded attention, and was becoming painful

“Please -” another rough thrust met with a groan. “What?”

“Please let… please let me touch - myself.” Aziraphale responded haltingly, equal parts from moaning and embarrassment. To his surprise, Crowley stopped. The hand on his hip reached up to grip Aziraphale’s other wing, and suddenly that cruel tongue was against his ear.

“No.” He whispered with a grin, nibbling Aziraphale’s neck before he abruptly pulled out of him, his hands forcing Aziraphale to turn. “Get on your knees.”

“Crowley, you know I-” Azirphale started to protest, while still following directions, until he looked up. Crowley had freed himself of his robe (presumably with magic) and stood in nude splendor before him, his lean cock gripped in his hand. He was so slender and delicate, practically angelic again with his wings out and long curls draped down his heaving chest. The look in his eyes was purely need, desperate.

“Can I cum on your face?” He asked, sounding unsure for the first time since the encounter had started. For good reason - that was something Aziraphale had not allowed Crowley to do yet. It was just so… messy. Crowley was into it and he’d promised he’d _try_ it once, he just hadn’t done it yet.

“Yes.” Aziraphale said without hesitation, nodding. Crowley’s eyes widened in surprise, his hand pumping himself only a few times before he brought himself to orgasm with a gasp. Hot, sticky lines shot over Aziraphale’s face, who closed his eyes serenely, obeying his orders of not touching himself. Mentally he ticked this into his list of ‘it’s not my favorite, but I’ll do it for him sometimes’. Once he heard Crowley’s cries die down, he cracked an eye open to peer up at the Demon. Crowley was panting, his hand still holding his half-hard cock, hair sticking to his face from sweat. Yes, Aziraphale mused. He was angelic like this.

“I hope that was good for you, dear.” He said cheerily, picking up an edge of his robe to wipe his face clean. “I believe it may be my turn to indulge? I enjoyed it very much, but you’ve left me in a delicate situation.”

He brought himself to a standing position, letting his robes fall to the ground.

“On your knees, please.” Aziraphale gestured to the ground. Crowley gave a little nod and lowered himself, his eyes looking up at the Angel in what could be described as wonder. Aziraphale had never thought of his corporeal form as particularly attractive in a conventional sense, but Crowley always made him feel that way. Seeing him on his knees, nude, fiery hair curled delicately, long and lush against night-black wings, eyes turned upwards at him, the sight made his cock twitch in response.

One of Aziraphale’s hands plunged into Crowley’s ringlets, taking a grip that was rougher than required. With his other hand he stroked himself slowly, looking down into the face of his snake, his face a gentle contrast to the firm grip on his hair. He knew Crowley wouldn’t keep the long hair, but he absolutely adored it. It was nice to have something substantial to hold on to.

He pressed the tip of his throbbing member to the Demon’s lips, letting out a sigh of relief when he obligingly opened his mouth to take him in. His lips were sharp and cruel, but his mouth was warm and soft, and very good at this particular task. His deft fingers reached up to curl delicately against Aziraphale’s hips again, this time submissively.

The Angel groaned softly as he plunged himself into the inviting mouth, his other hand changing positions to take it’s own grip of hair. He knew he wouldn’t last long, which was a shame, because Crowley was so sweet like this, at mercy to the grips in his hair with a cock in his mouth. Aziraphale didn’t often feel very sexual, but _this_ particular version of Crowley was being locked away in his head for further use.

It only took a few thrusts, between the beautiful figure below him diligently fellating with eyes delicately closed, and the previous teasing, Aziraphale didn’t have long.

“I’m going to cum.” He grunted, looking down at Crowley and loosening his grip. He’d let the Demon decide how to take his load. He was unsurprised when Crowley pulled back, mouth open and bright eyes gazing up expectantly. Aziraphale came on has face, lines landing over his lips, nose, cheeks, and tongue. Crowley looked pleased - it was _his_ thing, after all.

Aziraphale let out a breath and sat on the ground, making sure his robes were underneath him. His wings rested lightly on the ground. Crowley curled up against him, leaning his head on his shoulder with a heavy sigh. Aziraphale _assumed_ he had cleaned himself up first.

They stayed like that for a time, content in each other’s company. Crowley finally broke the silence.

“I could, y’know, if you let me-” He hesitated, looking down at his hand. “Groom your wings. We only have each other now, and you’re rubbish at doing it yourself.”

Aziraphale smiled, that smile that lit up even the darkest of rooms.

“I do believe I’d like that, Crowley.”


End file.
